


The Adventures of Captain Marvel and the Iron Man

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awesome Carol Danvers, Fluff, Marvel 616/MCU Crossover, Tony Stark Has A Heart, intergalactic batman and robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: the battle of midtown draws to a close, and tony never makes it back through the portal.cue a new suit, comic books, star wars references and introspection. not necessarily in that order.
Relationships: Carol Danvers & Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 42





	The Adventures of Captain Marvel and the Iron Man

**Author's Note:**

> **trigger warning! // tony begins to have a panic attack pretty close to the beginning of the story. i don't write it in terrible detail but it's mentioned and carol does talk him through it**
> 
> so basically this is just a complete mcu rewrite in which tony and carol are space-pals from the get-go. this was SO fun to write :') 
> 
> all the planets/aliens mentioned are from 616 canon. so basically this was my passive-aggressive way of giving more spotlight to my intergalactic favs. 
> 
> finally, and most importantly, this is a *christmas gift* for one of my dearest friends! so if she's reading (which she should) go down to the end notes!
> 
> you can also find me on [tumblr :)](http://tumblr.com/sagistark)

The nuke drifts off his back with a jolt, though it’s so much gentler than its nature would imply. It floats towards the alien warships like a sailboat would approach a port. 

Tony can sense the portal behind him closing - there’s no sound in space, he knows this, but he imagines for a moment he can hear the earth calling to him. He can hear Thor’s crack of thunder, Widow’s bites sizzling to life, Hawkeye’s bow pulled taut, Hulk’s roar, and the familiar rush of Steve’s shield flying physics-defying arcs through the air. 

(He imagines he can hear Jarvis’ soft chuckling. Rhodey’s familiar platitudes. Pepper’s ministrations.)

Of course he can’t hear any of this, and slowly the lights of the stars surrounding him begin to fade. Jarvis was gone a long time ago - or maybe it’s only been seconds - and now the suit is powering down as well. He’s just a man floating in a metal coffin - drifting among the stars somewhere light-years from his home. If there was ever to be a funeral for the futurist, he supposes he should be grateful it’s this one. Out where no human-being in his lifetime will probably ever reach. 

He finds no comfort in the thought. 

The nuke explodes with a blinding flash of light. It’s the red and amber glow of his accomplished mission that lulls him to sleep. He counts his last few breaths and focuses on the sounds of earth he knows are long gone. 

_You did it,_ Jarvis’ phantom voice says in his oxygen-deprived mind. It’s startlingly human compared to the A.I. version Tony has grown so accustomed to, _Rest, sir. You’ve earned it._

-*-

“Did that… Work.” A soft voice says. Tony hardly hears it around his own gasping breath. His eyes blink frantically, but remain unseeing. His mouth is dry and chalky. 

“I think that worked.” The same voice repeats - sounding distant and quiet outside his armor. The more he blinks the more light comes back to him. Blackness. Stars. A face surrounded by a halo of golden light. 

“I’m gonna make an ass of myself… If I ask if you’re an angel, aren’t I?” His voice is hardly above a whisper, and he imagines the being hovering beside him can't hear him anyways. 

His eyes adjust more. He’s floating horizontal while the being uses its humanoid arms to hold him. One arm supports his back, the other against his chest. Its hand lays on the iron suits arc reactor. 

Tony tries to squint to get a better look at its face - trying to bite back the swelling feeling of hope that this is one of Thor’s people. The Asgardians. _Maybe it can take me home-_

“You would absolutely make an ass of yourself. Though, I can’t imagine you can get any lower than floating dead around a bunch of space garbage.” 

“Is that… Is that a _Boston accent?”_ It’s a female. A female from… _Earth?_ The hope remains but it’s coupled with confusion. Tony Stark does not take confusion very well, thank you very much. “Hey, Sparky, you mind turning on the dimmers a little bit so I can see who’s feeling me up-”

“ _Boston_ how do you-are you from _earth?”_ She does in fact dim. The golden glow around her hovers a few inches from her body but clears enough he can see her face. Brown eyes. Blonde hair. A strong jaw. A golden star on her chest. She’s beautiful like the space around her - simple, but intriguing. 

“Like the suit. Red and gold are kind of my colors but, the blue is a nice offset. Makes your eyes really pop. The gold does the job, too, which - are we going to address how someone with a New England accent is doing…” He waves a weak hand in the general direction of his savior, “ _This.”_

“First of all, no one has a claim on _colors_.” The being-human-alien-person says with a frown. “Second of all, I’m from Earth I just… Well I haven't been back in a while.” She looks uncomfortable. Tony wants to press her on it but considering he still feels half-dead, and just one of this woman's hands can revive his entire suit, he’ll drop it. 

“Okay, well, it’s a pleasure. I’m Tony and if you can’t tell I’m a wee bit far from home at the moment-” 

“That’s an understatement. You’re nearly 6 light years-”

“Nah, nope-” Tony waves his hand around again to cut her off which she does - with another one of her frustrated looking frowns, “Don’t wanna hear that. I don’t know if you noticed, Space Face, but I was literally dead like 3 minutes ago and the last thing I need is a panic attack. So let’s just do Tony a favor and _not_ talk about the abyss we’re currently floating in.” 

She swallows once before nodding. “Alright… Well, your suit isn’t fully powered up. I got your chest-piece back online, but the rest of you is as good as the debris-”

“Well that’s not offensive at all-”

“-Come with me. I have a ship you can… Figure all this out on.” She uses the arm on his chest to support the back of his knees. She gives him something that - remarkably enough - looks like a grin, before a helmet comes sliding over half her face.

“Is that… Is that a _mohawk-_ ”

“Shut up, it’s the way the helmet is built-”

“No I will _not_ shut up, you have a fake mohawk for your _costume_ that’s _amazing-_ ” 

“I can leave you here, you know!” Except even as she snaps, she’s flying him up. 

Tony watches the stars streak past them and realizes they’re flying much faster than they seem. He shuts his eyes and turns his head into the woman’s bicep. From the way her hands tighten on the backs of his knees and shoulder blades, he knows she can tell, and he can’t find it in himself to be ashamed. 

He can feel the shock beginning to wear off, and his eyes get heavier. He takes in a few shuddering breaths and shuts his eyes as tight as he can. 

“Hey, Tony?” The woman says quietly. It sounds like she’s talking to a frightened child. Once again, Tony feels no shame. 

“Yeah, Sparkles?” 

“My name is Carol. Carol Danvers.” 

“Nice name. Irish?” Was the last thing Tony says before he passes out again. 

-*- 

He shoots bolt upright, his breath coming in painful gasps. He grabs his chest - feels the cold metal of the arc-reactor, and his hammering heart. His mouth is too dry, and his eyesight is starting to fade in and out-

“Hey, look at me.” A firm voice says to his left. His head whirls and he meets those wide, ever-serious brown eyes again. “Here, give me your hand.” She - _Carol_ \- takes Tony’s hand and places it flat against her chest - no longer donned in her armor, she’s in just a black tank-top. He can feel her heartbeat through the material. “Breathe in deep for three seconds, hold for three, let out for three. I’m gonna do it with you, alright? Ready-” 

She takes in a breath and he follows her lead. She holds her breath, and he does the same. The whole time he feels her steady, calm heart beat and focuses on it. He’s baffled for a moment - all that golden power encased in one little human heart. He’s reminded of one of those first thoughts he had of her; _beautiful._

“There you go.” She says when he eventually calms down. She drops his wrist and brings his hand back to his lap. He’s in his under-suit, and looks up to see the armor standing sentry by the door of - what looks to be - some kind of medical bay. “The suit ran through some emergency protocols,” Carol explains seeing Tony’s questioning expression, “jumped off you and stood over there. It was pretty spooky, to be honest. Sick tech though. I had no idea humans were so advanced by now.” 

“ _Humans_ , are not. Tony Stark, on the other hand-”

“Stark?” Carol snaps. Her eyes are back on him - searching and almost hopeful. “Stark like… Stark Industries?”

“Wow, wait’ll marketing finds out our brand made it to wherever-the-fuck-this-is, Space.”

“Wait just one second.” Carol leaps up from the stool she had been sitting on beside Tony’s cot. She jogs from the room - through the mechanically sliding doors - and runs off down the hall. 

Tony waits for a minute or two, wondering for the first time if he should feel in _danger_ in the company of some Bostonite alien, until Carol comes back. She’s holding a notebook that looks older than Tony. 

“Stark…” She murmurs to herself. She flips open the book - firing through a handful of pages until she lets out an ‘a-ha!’, “Like Howard Stark. Do you know him-”

Tony lets out an involuntary groan, “Jesus, really? Even _here_?” 

Carol flips the book around to show him a page and Tony’s complaints fall flat on his tongue. There’s a black and white photo of Howard and Wendy Lawson. 

“Aunt Wendy?” Tony says in a breathless half-whisper. He takes the book from Carol’s hands and runs his fingers over the familiar woman’s young, smiling face. “How do you… How do you know Doctor Lawson-”

“She’s… Well, I don’t even know where to begin.” Carol says, nearly laughing she’s so eager. And hell, Tony is now, too. He remembers wry grins, private little winks, and slyly ‘stolen’ access cards. Wendy Lawson who’d take the juvenile Tony through P.E.G.A.S.U.S to teach him wonderful things no one was brave enough to. Wendy Lawson who once punched his father square in the face when he implied she couldn’t do something a male pilot could. 

Tony looks at Carol and realizes he may not be lost in space at all. 

-*-

“So let me get this straight…” Tony picks at some more of the inedible mush Carol insists is a delicacy on some planet called Torfa, “Wendy was a Kree who was working _against_ the Kree _for_ the Skrull.” 

Carol, with her mouth full, nods and motions for him to continue. 

“Then the Supreme Intelligence went full Emperor Palpatine on your ass and tried to knock you down a few pegs-” 

“Excellent reference, proceed,” Carol says - which is a rough translation considering the amount of food still in her mouth,

“But you, being powered by the Tesseract, and your own internal bad-assery, destroyed them.”

“Which also explains why I was so drawn to you.” Carol says, finally - to Tony’s relief - _swallowing_ \- “On the other side of the portal was the Tesseract. It’s one with me. Not to mention the portal itself was powered up by the Mind Stone. All beings in the galaxy with a connection to the Infinity Stones can sense them no matter the distance.” 

“And the Infinity Stones being some hocus-pocus, fake-science, space-mumbo-”

“You can keep saying crap about them all you want, Tony, doesn’t make them any less powerful.” 

“- _whatevers._ Alright, good to be caught up about the intergalactic whose-it-what’s-it. One of my favorite aunt’s was an alien, I was playing around with _two_ infinity stones without realizing it, and Agent Fury has been around the block way more times than I ever gave him credit for. Anything else I should be worried about?”

Carol narrows her eyes and taps her chin with her index finger, “Area 51 has _actual_ aliens.” 

“Got it.”

“The moon landing was _not_ faked.”

“Well, duh.”

“You know that scientist who took his family and disappeared into space during the Cold War? They’re still alive”

“Oh, good for them, I definitely thought that one was fake.” 

“The Boston Red Sox are the greatest baseball team-”

“Alright, can it now.” Tony holds up his hand. Carol tosses her head back and laughs. Her laugh is contagious and Tony finds himself chuckling along. 

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment. At a circular table sat beside large reinforced windows that overlook the twinkling stars around them. Carol takes a slow sip of her green mush (again, no matter what she says Tony will refuse to believe this is considered _good_ ). 

“Well, I know how to get to Earth.” Carol says after a few more moments. Tony looks at her with a curious frown, 

“It’s a few jumps from here. We can make it in like two-or so weeks.” She stands from the table and collects their empty plates and glasses. “Get some rest. There are a bunch of extra bedrooms for all the strays I pick up.” 

“You make it a habit of doing this?” Tony asks. Following suit and standing with her, “Picking up strays, and all that.” 

Carol, still looking down, seems to go uncharacteristically quiet. She shuffles on her feet and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“It’s the least I can do.” She says finally, never looking him in the eyes. Tony watches her leave.

He walks the cylindrical corridors of the ship to the bedrooms she had mentioned. The ship is pristine and… Sterile. It looks un-lived in and cold - more like a floating hospital (or prison) than an intergalactic hero's flying fortress. 

When he finds his room and his stomach turns with a surge of endearment. There's a neatly folded stack of white sheets in the corner of the room, and on the bed was, instead, a bright yellow cotton bed-spread. It looks worn and used. Tony walks closer and checks the pillow case which has a tag sticking out: 

_Property of Rambeau_ , it read in sharpie. Carol had mentioned a friend back on Earth who had seen her off. Tony has a feeling this Rambeau would be the one. 

His suit was standing sentry by the far window, and on the night table was a water bottle, some small pills he supposed were Advils, and a thin book. A comic book. 

_Marvel Comics Presents, The Invincible Iron Man!_ Dated 2008. Attached is a post-it ' _had this buried somewhere..._ _Wait’ll marketing finds out you made it to wherever-the-fuck’space.'_

She’s lonely. Tony realizes with such certainty and suddenness he nearly gasps. She sits here in her floating prison - wandering the galaxy looking for broken parts to collect. She sends them back off with a smile, and maybe a handful of mints, and then closes up her bed-and-breakfast until her Cosmic Awareness leads her to the next unfortunate soul. 

_“I was wrong the whole time…”_ Carol had murmured while they ate, _“The Kree were… Slaughtering them. By thousands. Innocent civilian lives…. And I was ...”_ She hadn’t been able to finish speaking. 

_Dessert fields painted with red. The blood of thousands of innocent lives, terrorized and ruined by weapons of my own design._ So what had Tony done? Built himself a metal fortress. So he could search the world for unfortunate souls - giving all he could, and making sure no one could ever really get in. 

Tony knew she’d looked familiar. He’d seen her in his mirror countless times. 

-*-

“Morning, sunshine!” Carol chirps while she jogs on the advanced looking treadmill beside the cockpit. Tony - hair askew and eyes still crusted - glares at her. 

“Morning people are, arguably, worse than most super-villains. And I would know because I’ve fought many.”

“Morning people, or super-villains?” She asks, still jogging. Tony levels her with an unamused glare, 

“Potato, potat-oh.” 

“Coffee’s frying in the kitchen, help yourself Morning Glory.”

“Don’t do nicknames,” He bites, even as he turns to find the aforementioned liquid-salvation, “Nicknames are my thing. They just make you seem like a try-hard, and considering you’re jogging in _NASA_ sweatpants, you just kind of look pathetic-”

“That would sting, Sleeping Beauty, if you weren’t still rocking that _torn_ under-suit from yesterday. Y’know the suit you _died_ in-”

“There has to be a level of decency that comes with _refraining_ from joking about a man’s _literal death-_ ”

“Good thing I ain’t decent, Stark!” She shouts since by now, he’s made it to the kitchen.

A few coffees (and a change of clothes) later, Tony is sitting in the co-pilot's seat of the ship he has donned the Eonic Eagle (“Get it. Like the Millennium Falcon, but-” “I did go to high school, Tony, I know what an eon is… And yes, I love it.”) 

“So what does that mean?” Tony asks for the hundredth time, pointing to somewhere far off to the right. Carol follows the trail of his finger and replies,

“When a ship lets off pink fumes that means they’re preparing to land but don’t have official boarding security. It lets the landing-planet know they’ll have to do a security check of the ship before allowing any passenger to deboard.” 

“And that?” 

“That is the call of the Nova order. It’s like a bread-crumb left for other Nova’s in the area.” 

“And that?” 

“That’s a moon.”

“And that?”

“Another moon.”

“What about-”

“Wanna see the engine room?” Carol says suddenly, sounding more than a little exasperated. 

So that’s where Tony spends the next few hours. He marvels at the Kree technology - combined seamlessly and, dare he say _elegantly_ with Skrull tech. He used Carol’s research devices and found some parts were made on Hala (Kree homeworld, _thank you_ Carol’s version of Google), others were from Nova-Corps ships. The most advanced pieces were from some planet called Zenn-La and, again according to Caro-ogle, was some fantastically advanced planet that had gone missing eons ago. 

To say Tony was riveted would be an understatement as denigrating as calling the Hulk small. 

He was in the midst of trying to upgrade a thruster - seemingly speed was not of massive concern to the _Korbinite_ race who fashioned them - when Carol poked her head in. Her eyes looked a bit manic - teeming with a golden glow.

“Hey, you mind just keeping an eye on the ship? Just got a distress call a planet over, gonna check it out.”

“Oh yeah, sure.” Tony says with a tight smile. “I’ll be right here. Happy as a house-cat. Sitting with all my fun toys, completely minding my own- _annnnd_ she’s gone.” 

Tony drops the tools he’d been using ( _Kree_ tools, which were light and effortless and wonderful despite their makers terribleness) and rushes out of the engine room. He climbs to the deck just to see Carol’s trail of golden and amber stream across the sky towards the purple and blue planet below. 

“Jarvis,” Tony shouts. The answering A.I replies, sounding more exasperated than he should be able, “I need you to hack into the ships mainframe. I already rigged it downstairs, so it should be a one-two-three on your end. Just keep her hovering on autopilot for a bit - I’m going to give our little shooting-star a hand.” 

_“If you don’t mind me saying, sir, she doesn’t seem like the type to require a hand.”_ Jarvis replies smoothly. Tony huffs and quickens his pace towards his bedroom, 

“Oh I know, J, I’m just trying to make myself feel better about the fact I’m _excited_ to go be the Robin to someone’s Batman right now.” 

-*-

_“STARK?!”_

“Nice to see you too, Space Face!” 

Tony had entered the thick atmosphere of the carbon-based planet and swooped in; just in time to catch the tail end of one of Carol’s photon blasts, which she had been aiming at the rogue pirate trailing Tony. 

“I told you to watch the ship!” She shouts over the sound of her own attacks. Tony huffs and sends one of the purple-skinned pirates flying into a nearby… Well he supposes that’s a tree but he really has no idea. 

_“For all intents and purposes, sir, it’s a tree for this species.”_ Jarvis says because apparently, Tony had muttered that aloud. 

“Don’t worry, Jarvis is watching the ship.” Tony replies, circling back to cover Carol’s six as more pirates begin to funnel out of the large planted ship beside them. 

“A sentient robot is watching the ship?!” Carol shouts, “Have you never seen 2001 Space Odyssey-”

“Excuse you, comparing Jarvis to Hal is as offensive as comparing every human to Hitler. Not all A.I’s are the same-”

“Do you hear yourself right now?!” 

“Not really considering we’re in the middle of a small warzone and I’m _trying_ to focus!” 

Carol lets out an enraged groan but gets back into the fray. There’s a small hut filled with young civilians that they’re guarding from the rogue pirates who are looking for some gem hidden in the foundation of the building. Carol’s universal translator is picking up on most of the chatter from both sides of the scourge, and Tony makes a mental note to install one of those in his own suit.

With Tony’s suit, and Carol’s _Carol-ness_ , the pirates end up fleeing within minutes. The rush of watching the ship scurry off into the dark sky, and hearing the cheers of the people below them was… Well better than anything Tony’s felt in a long time. Carol hovers above the crowd - still covering her face with her mask - and gives a delicate sort of wave to the children who scream:

“ _Captain Marvel_?” Tony asks. 

Carol shrugs, and he swears he can see her blush, “The refugee Skrull’s told the story of Captain Mar-Vell to anyone who would listen. She wore the star of Hala in gold, like... “ Carol motions to her chest. She clears her throat, as if to bite back a wave of emotion, “People always forget the hyphen.” 

“Yeah, well people always forget the space between _Iron_ and _Man_ as well-” 

From below them, the crowd erupts again.

“ _Captain Marvel and the Iron Man! Thank you!”_

“Oh, look at that! We’ve got a brand, Care-Bear!”

At that, Carol seemed to snap back into their former argument. She turns on him, her fists glowing menacingly orange, “Back to the ship, Stark. _Now_.” 

-*- 

“You could’ve gotten yourself _killed-_ ” 

“Look, sweetheart, I don’t know if you noticed-”

“Do _not_ call me sweetheart-”

“But I’m a _superhero!_ ” Tony realizes he sounds hysterical - and more than a little insane. But he hasn’t had someone worry about him getting (himself) hurt since Rhodey rigged their dorm with child-safety locks. 

Carol crosses her arms across her chest. Tony wonders if she’s doing it subconsciously to make her arms look bigger. Cheap intimidation tactic. Tony narrows his eyes. 

“I’m serious, Danvers. If we’re flying to Earth I’m not gonna be cooped up in this rig the whole time. That’s not the way I roll-”

“Tony, I’ve been in space for the past 15 plus years.” Carol says with a fragile calm in her voice, “I know this place. I know how to fight here, I know how to _fly_ here. All the years I’ve been doing this you were on Earth. I can’t have an Earthling in my way while I’m trying to do my-”

“ _In your way?_ ” Tony scoffs rather indignantly, “You banished me off to the engine room-”

“Hardly banishing when you _liked it_ -”

“Still banishing!” Tony throws his arms up and tries to level her with an incredulous glare. Carol remains unmoved. 

They stare at each other in charged silence for a while. Carol had made her peace, and Tony had nothing more to say except more frustrated complaints which would fall on deaf ears. So they each clenched their fists and turned on their heels. Storming off down different ends of the corridor and neither mentioning it when the engine rumbled back to life and Carol continues them on their trek towards earth. 

-*- 

“I never understood the purpose of this game,” Carol hums while moving her small plastic car further around the _Life_ board. Tony, with his log cabin, three small pink children, and successful career as an athlete, harumphs, 

“It’s escapism.” He says plainly. To prove his point he picks up one of the little pink pegs (‘children’) from the back of his car and waves it in Carol’s face, “Like this little lady, Natasha. She’s gonna grow up to be President. The other one, Maria, is only 5 but she’s already run away from home-”

“This is so nerdy-” 

“Watch it, those are my _daughters_ you’re talking about.” Tony shoves the Natasha peg in Carol’s face as if to prove a point. Carol just levels him with an unamused glare and continues moving her plastic car across the board. “Besides,” Tony continues after returning Natasha to her rightful place in the back of his blue car, “You named your wife Sigourney Weaver-”

“And you named your husband Bruce Wayne,” Carol shot back instantly, “don’t be jealous I called dibs on naming my kids after the Justice League. Oh look at that, my son the _Flash_ just managed to save my home from a fire so now I don’t have to pay insurance!” Carol says with childish triumph. 

_“Which_ Flash you fake fan.” Tony snaps, though with no real heat.

It's been about two days since their fight on the hangar. Tony had spent countless hours tinkering in the engine room, while Carol stewed and got into verbal spats with Jarvis (who Tony refused to remove from the ship’s mainframe). By the end of the first day of their impromptu quiet-game, Carol broke and went into the engine room to offer Tony a coffee. It was a peace offering, and it was Tony’s favorite type of peace offering. He went to bed that night in Monica Rambeau’s yellow sheets and slept better than he had in years. 

“And besides, you can’t just cheat the game-” Tony is about to argue when Jarvis’ monotone voice interrupts; 

_“Pardon, Captain Danvers, Sir, but it seems you are being approached by an unidentified vessel. From my initial scanning it does not pose any imminent threat-”_ Carol is already on her feet and marching off to the cockpit with Tony in toe. Jarvis continues rattling off the mechanical details of the approaching ship. Carol sits and holds a radio to her mouth, 

_"This is Captain Marvel, identify yourself, over-_ ”

Tony, leaning over the side of her chair, whines, “I thought we agreed we’d call ourselves the Eonic-”

Carol spins and whacks Tony on the back of the head. 

The radio buzzes to life. 

_“Well, ‘ello Ms. Marvel, I’ve missed your brutish lack of decorum. How are you, love… Oh right, over and out or whatever.”_

Tony watches Carol’s face transform from confusion to fondness. 

_“Sorry about that, Talos, got a new Hal 9000 robot running my ship and he didn’t recognize you. I’m opening the pod bay doors for docking, over.”_

_“I really do not appreciate that monicor, Captain.”_ Jarvis says primly. Tony loves him so much. 

Carol rises from her seat and looks up at the ceiling with an apologetic grin, “Sorry, Jarvis, I’ll get out of the habit.” Tony watches her leave to greet the company - _Talos_ , apparently. 

-*-

And apparently, Talos is the leader of the _Skrulls_ , and more importantly - by Tony’s standards - he is wildly funny, horribly offensive, and all around a pleasure to be around. 

“So, hang on, this stick in the mud,” Talos gestures towards Carol who visibly bristles, “is benching _you_ , even though you’re that Iron Man Nick keeps raving about?”

“I’m not sure _raving_ is the way I’d put it-” Tony interjects thoughtfully but Talos waves him off, 

“No, no he raves. Every time him and I do the old swap-out-cop-out he gives me the run-down. Natasha’s his favorite, by far, but you’re a close second.” Talos says with a shrug. Tony bites back a laugh - disbelieving, sure, but not willing to argue it further. 

“Your funeral was beautiful, by the way.” Talos says after a few moments. Tony drops the fork he’d been holding. “Your girlfriend, Pepper, read a stunning eulogy. Rhodes played an embarrassing video. That American... Captain Star? Captain... What the hell is his name- Oh Captain _America!_ He said a few words that, I must say, got me teary-eyed.” 

The room goes quiet as Tony stares down at his half-finished coffee, while Carol watches him closely. It was overwhelming to hear, to say the least. He supposed he knew they’d all begin moving on - how could they not - but it was still difficult to hear. 

“I-uh… I got more stuff to… Work on.” Tony says as form of dismissal. He leaves the room - feeling Carol’s eyes on him the whole time but choosing to ignore it. 

He spends the next few hours in the engine room, tinkering with certain elements of the ship he still doesn’t understand, and trying to drown out his mounting thoughts with Black Sabbath. 

He goes back upstairs to find Carol already in bed. In his room, on the night table, is a cut-out piece of an old newspaper. A eulogy for a Carol Susan Jane Danvers, declared dead nearly 20 years ago. Beside it a post-it with familiar scrawl: ‘ _Yeah. It’s weird, isn’t it?’_

-*-

“Iron Man, blast me, now!” Carol shouts over the ensuing battle. The small world of Birj is battling against a horde of angry slime that Carol called a ‘Symbiote’. Tony called it ‘Mad Goo’. 

Tony spun mid-air and shot Carol with a blast to the chest. Absorbing the energy, she was able to shoot it right back at the onslaught of goo. 

This is now their fourth fight together. The first two had gone similar, if not a hair more disorganized. 

After their meeting with Talos, Carol seemed to soften to the idea of Tony joining her in the intergalactic fray. Tony was offended it took the reassurance of Nick Fury-Lite to get her to ease up on the idea, but he supposed he’d be skeptical of himself as well. 

Their trip from ‘who-knows’ to earth was riddled with planets and star-systems, and while Tony obsessively and eagerly absorbed all the knowledge the ship (and Carol’s influx, if not begrudged, bank of space-facts) had to offer, Carol had work to do. Important work. The type of work that made Tony think: _isn’t this exactly what I got into the hero-business for?_

Because Carol didn’t fight _for_ anyone, nor did she fight _against_ anyone. She heard cries for help, and she stepped in to intervene. If there was some intergalactic diplomacy she was interfering in, she left only after the assurance no civilian lives would be at stake (because if so, she’d stand sentry and unmoving until they were not). 

Tony loved this. He loved every damn _part_ of this. Sure, his suit was not equipped for space but he was making adjustments. Sure, Jarvis was confused more times than he was comfortable with, but he was learning at an extraordinary pace. They were growing into the universe like it’s what they were meant to do all along. 

Now they know each other's fight-patterns. Can predict where the other will fly - what and where they blast. With each passing minute Tony feels like he knows Carol even better. 

Tony is about to go low to cover Carol’s six, when some of the goo leaps onto his suit. Jarvis can only get out a frantic “ _Sir!”_ before his system is completely fried and Tony’s eyesight goes black. The symbiote weasels its way into the suit, giving Tony only a brief moment to shout for help before he plunges onto the planet below - submerged in the horrible, liquid-alien that coils around his body like a serpent. 

The last thing he hears before passing out is Carol’s horrified shouts. 

-*-

Tony dreams of New York. He sees the cobble-stoned streets of Forest Hills, the suspension of the Verrazzano, even the traffic in midtown. He sees Pepper’s smile, and hears Rhodey’s laugh. He even sees Steve - with his kind blue eyes and set jaw. 

But then, the dream changes. The streets are no longer below him, and the sky above him is all _around_ him. There’s light - so much _light_. It feels like the light itself is as inside of him as it is outside.

_“C’mon, Stark.”_ A familiar voice pleads somewhere outside of him. _“Wake up, you bastard.”_

The voice is near him but also… Far. So far. 

With a gasp, Tony sits up. But he doesn’t just _sit_ up. 

He’s… Floating. 

With a yelp, and a bang as something knocks over, he plants his feet back on the ground. The whole room is awash in a golden light and he realizes with a sudden jolt the light is coming from _him_. He looks down and the cold blue light of the arc reactor is blindingly bright. 

“Tony, sit down,” Carol is repeating, trying to force him back onto the cot he’d been laying on, “I… I have to explain this-”

“Did you… Am I…” Tony is holding his chest - the arc reactor _feels_ the same but clearly- 

“The symbiote infected your-” Carol waves distantly at his chest - looking a bit manic herself. “I removed the vibranium core. Well, _Jarvis_ walked me through most of this so a lot of the credit goes to him-”

“What happened to me? What did you _do?_ ” 

Carol swallows slowly, as if suddenly tentative in light of Tony’s frantic confusion. 

“I used my power. The reactor it’s… It’s now powered by the same stuff the powers me.” 

“The space stone.” Tony says quietly. Carol nods, 

“An offset, obviously, since your power is from _me_ and _I’m_ an offset. So like offset squared? I don’t know.” Carol gesticulates clumsily, as if trying to get herself to focus. “That’s the -uh… Well, where the floating comes from. You don’t have the full array of all my powers, but-” 

“And I can… I can _feel_ things.” Tony interjects. He closes his eyes but feels like they’re still open. He feels like he can see the entire room before him - hell the entire _ship_. Almost as if in his peripheral he can imagine the expanse of space around him. The push and pull of gravity like a breaking tide.

“And that would be the Cosmic Awareness.” Carol says quietly. Tony opens his eyes to see her small grin, “It’s incredible, isn’t it?”

_“Sir,”_ Jarvis interrupts gently, _“This new core should last you a significant number of years that I can better quantify as simply… Forever._ ”

The glow of the reactor dims to something warm. 

“C’mon… Wanna give that new sixth sense, a spin?” Carol says while patting his shoulder. She motions for him to follow which he does - like a moth to a flame - as the two walk through the ship. Tony’s newly fixed armor (which, he knows he can thank Jarvis for) comes to him while Carol herself suits up. She opens the bay doors and jumps out as if stepping into a pond. Tony follows. 

_“Sir, with this new core, you can fly at a maximum capacity that may even rival Captain Marvel’s.”_ Jarvis says and sounds, dare he say, _proud_ . _“We’ll need to advance the thrusters, and the cooling system but… Imagine now, you're armor is like going 500 miles per hour in a minivan.”_

“Okay, hate the analogy, love the concept.” Tony looks at his gauntlets and clenches his fists. He feels like he’s holding space itself when he does so. It's _amazing_. 

“Follow me and just,” Carol turns to him, outstretches her arms, and starts floating backwards as if swimming, “ _f_ _eel._ ” 

So he does. They start off flying slowly but as Tony’s mind races, so does his body. They’re flying through the galaxy at near light-speed, and Tony is breathless. It feels like flying over California that first time he took the suit out for a spin. Except instead of the lights of cities below him its stars. Millions and millions of stars. 

“I can feel them… Every star around us.” Tony says to no one in particular. Flying feels like riding gravity itself - feeling all the elements around him. The pull of stars, and the push of planets. It’s incredible. It’s _everything_. 

“Hang a left.” Carol suddenly says. Tony snaps from his reverie to follow suit. They slow down in a purplish cloud. There are chunks of glowing rock and sediment like flecks of diamonds drifting around them. There’s a blinding light at the center - churning and spinning. 

There he is - floating in the cradle of a newborn star. He looks over at Carol and her expression says it all. 

_This_ is home. 

-*- 

He builds a new suit for the new reactor. It’s lighter and more aerodynamic for space-travel. It fits him similar to how Carol’s suit fits her instead of the bulky suit of armor he had before.

At the last minute, he decided to change the shape of the suit’s reactor-casing. Rather than matching the circle in his chest, he made the suit’s cut out into the shape of an 8-pointed Hala star. While he was at it, he painted the gauntlets and boots of the suit blue. 

Carol had rolled her eyes when she’d seen him. Tony saw the fondness behind it.

-*- 

“Everyone _shut up_ the delivery droid is here!” Peter shouts over the sounds of Drax and Rocket’s never-ending bickering. Gamora narrowly avoids being struck by the boot that was clumsily launched at Drax’s head. She saunters around the arguing duo and accepts the postage that was dropped off into what Quill called the ships 'mailbox’. 

“Peter, your stupid comicbook is here-” 

“Captain Marvel and the Iron Man?” Peter lurches out of his captains seat and narrowly avoids the dagger that was clumsily thrown at Rocket. He grabs the magazine from Gamora’s hands and kisses the front cover. 

“Okay, gross, that _just_ came from outside-”

“Oh look, Gamora, they’re on Zenn-La this issue!” Peter shows her the cover and the drawn picture of Captain Marvel and her iron side-kick. Two terrans floating above the advanced planet. 

-*-

“Weren’t you meant to be back on Earth like… Nearly a year ago?” Talos asks. Carol’s ship is flooded with friends and allies - all celebrating a successful battle against the Brood Queen. 

At Talos’ question Tony grins. He catches his own reflection in the dark windows of Carol’s ship, and looking back at him is someone he hardly recognizes. The Space Stone gave him a lightness in his eyes he thought he’d never know. His hair is longer and perpetually un-styled. His smile wide, and lineless. He looks years younger, and _brighter_. Happier. 

“Got a new gig. A better one.” He replied instead of saying the whole truth. 

The world didn’t need him anymore. Not really. The Avengers were still kicking ass on his little marble - third from the sun. And here is Tony - a galaxy away and learning more than any human had ever before. 

“Let me guess, you slept with a Shi’ar and can never go back to your meager humans.” 

“He had _four arms_ , Talos, how could I resist, really?” 

“Oh disgustin’. Why do I pick the worst damn times to try to strike up a conversation.” Ben Grimm grumbles from Tony’s left. He levels them both with a steely, blue-eyed glare. Beside him Beta Ray Bill claps him on the shoulder and practically proclaims, 

“Here now, dear Benjamin! We should celebrate friend Anthony’s impressive and most _adventurous_ appetites!” 

In cheers, Tony tips his glass of fizzy… Something (he’ll _never_ get used to space food) just as Norrin Rad laughs loudly from his right. Norrin doesn’t laugh often, so Tony startles around just to see the Silver Surfer shaking his head, as if surprised himself at his own outburst. 

“You Terrans… You amuse me.” With that he settles back into his characteristic, straight-mouthed glare. Tony loves the guy. 

“You ever thinkin’ of going back to our little rock?” Ben asks. He looks across the room at Sue who catches both his and Tony’s eye. She makes a show of rolling her eyes and pointing, exasperated, at Reed who is talking poor Richard Ryder’s ear off. 

Tony laughs into his drink and turns back to Ben. 

“Maybe someday,” He says wistfully. “When they need us… Y’know Carol has this prehistoric pager-”

“Nope, not interested.” Talos suddenly snaps. He sticks his fingers in his massive ears and squeezes his eyes shut while shouting, “No shop talk, no shop talk, no shop talk-”

“Shop talk…” Norrin hums slowly, “What an interesting phrase. There is no _shop_ to speak of, so what are you implying-”

“That’s my cue.” Ben grumbles. Tony stifles a laugh and watches Ben try to squeeze his way through the crowd. Tony catches Carol’s eye and they both exchange a grin. For nothing in particular.

-*-

Years later, Carol’s pager beeps to life. 

“Ready to save their asses?” Carol asks. 

Tony, tapping his golden arc reactor, and smiling as his suit comes to life, “As I’ll ever be, Space Face.” 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> bambi, MERRY CHRISTMAS! thank you for being one of my absolute favorite friends and people. i hope you enjoyed the culmination of our nearly-year long caroltony bullshit idea. i love you!


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